Reflections
by gix
Summary: A short little Celena fic, basically her having some mental problems and a slight identity crisis. Takes place a short while after the end of the series. Rated R for some blood. Please R/R, flame me if you want.


Disclaimer: I don't own the Vision of Escaflowne or any of the characters in this fic. 

Author's Notes: This is just a short little fic that deals with some stuff that's going through Celena's head, takes place a short while after the end of series. I wrote this one pretty late at night so there's probably a few errors and some of it might not make sense. Rated R for some blood. Please R/R. 

** Reflections **

The pale light of the moon filtered through her thin curtains, veiling the room with an eerie glow. A cool breeze wafted through the window, gently ruffling the thin curtains, filling the room with renewed breath, washing over her dormant form. 

Her slender fingers traced a familiar path down her right cheek, gently stroking. She seemed to be doing that quite often recently. She really didn't understand why she did it; it just seemed so... right. 

Her eyes were wide and unfocused, gazing into nothingness as she absently continued to stroke her right cheek. She shivered as the cool zephyr brushed against her, flowing about her limbs, tenderly caressing her like a mother's touch, gently whispering... 

_Celena, it's time for bed. _

_But I don't wanna go to bed mommy, the dragon will get me... _

_Oh honey, no dragon will get you, now try to get some sleep... _

Mother was wrong; the dragon would get her, just like it got them. Who were they? She didn't know, couldn't know... all she knew was that the dragon had got them. No, she wouldn't succumb to the tempting wiles of slumber; she wouldn't let the dragon get her too. 

She sat there; never straying from her silent vigil, turning a deaf ear to slumber's beckon despite her body's fervent protests. She was fighting a losing battle, she knew that, but she had to try. Sleep brought her no solace, no respite, only nightmares. It would only bring her to the dragon that, she knew, eagerly awaited her. Exhaustion and fatigue won out, her eyelids closed, she collapsed onto her bed, falling into the deep slumber she had so desperately tried to avoid. 

The heat washed over her in a searing wave, crashing down on her. She watched with morbid fascination as the flames laid waste to all that it touched. It was a magnificent sight, the glorious fire scouring the land of the impurities that tainted it. Five beautiful boys stood amidst the ruin, standing tall and glorious, a testament to the beginning of a new era. An era where the impurities of the world would be cleansed, when the mistakes of the past would be eradicated. She felt privileged to bear witness to this monumental occasion. 

_Gatti... Chesta... Dalet... Guimel... Migel... _

Their tortured screams echoed loudly in her ears. She watched on helplessly as the dragon ripped them apart, spilling their blood over the war-torn land, staining it a bright crimson. Tears streamed from her eyes, burning and harsh, frustration and anger overwhelmed her. Why couldn't she help them? She could only stand there, helplessly watching. 

The dragon loomed before her now, having finished tearing apart the others. It stood there with it's great jaw agape, opening the gateway to her hell, her fate, eagerly awaiting the moment when it would devour her. 

Their blood dripped in thin rivulets from it's gaping maw, splashing on her hands, then spilling onto the ground. The metallic odor of their blood invaded her nostrils, sending her into a state of deep nausea. This was her fault, wasn't it? She should have been there to save them. Their blood... it was on her hands. 

_Blood on my hands... _

The dragon's mouth clamped down on her. 

She awoke gasping, her body covered with a thin sheen of sweat, glistening under the pale light of the moon. It was just a dream, dreams didn't come true, they couldn't hurt her. Yet her pulse refused to falter from its hurried pace, her muscles still tense, anticipating a danger that wouldn't come. She found herself, once again, absently tracing the same familiar path down her right cheek, softly stroking it. 

_Prick... Prick... Prick... _

A burning, sensation shot through her face. 

_Prick... Prick... Prick... _

She stood there splashing water on her face in an attempt to dispel the odd sensation that she was feeling. The cool water washed over her face but the burning sensation refused to cease. She didn't understand it, had she cut herself in the face? That was impossible, there was no blood, no scar. 

She gazed into the mirror, a beautiful young man with garnet eyes, and a scar down his right cheek stared back at her. No... that wasn't her face, it couldn't be. She found her hand trailing that same familiar path down her face; the boy in the mirror did the same, gently stroking the scar that marred his features. 

_That isn't me... _

Searing rage shot through her, her hands curled into fists. The glass shattered, the reflection fracturing into a million shards. She felt the warm blood slowly drip from her hands, spilling onto the floor. 

_Blood on my hands... _

Notes: So how was it? Did I contradict or repeat myself too many times? Please review, flame me if you want. Anyways, I'd like to thank anime fantasy for giving me some information that I needed to write this and for telling that chikuchiku means prick. I'd also like to thank all the people that have reviewed my other fics. 


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